No One Else
by Ione-Sama
Summary: Aoshi Returns after two years, on Misao's eighteenth birthday but he is surprised to find Misao much changed since last seeing her and her reaction to his return is far from what he ever expected. This is just meant to be a three-shot but I may continue it in the future if I have good reviews!
1. Eighteen

It was the eve of her eighteenth birthday—and still, he hadn't come home.

Misao wrung her fingers anxiously as she stood out on the Aoiya engawa watching the bustling crowds in the street moving about their day.

Perhaps he was on his way.

Maybe he had already arrived in Kyoto but had taken up a room elsewhere?

She contemplated.

Then shook her head.

_Like any other inn has as exceptional accommodations as the aoiya…as if._

A small plaintive smile tilted the corners of her pink lips upwards as her oceanic blue-green eyes once again scanned the faces that came ambling up the dusty road that led past the aoiya.

"Misao!"

She grimaced slightly at Okina's firm admonishing voice, calling her back to the present.

"It isn't fitting for a young woman to dawdle out on the engawa all day."

She kept her back to the old man; arms tucked securely around slender waist, long loose braid tossed carelessly over one shoulder. She looked the same—but at the same time, didn't. Her girlish figure had morphed into an hourglass of womanly curves over the last year, her hair had darkened a shade, her eyes were a delicate almond slant that replaced the round wide look of innocence and even her face had given up its round plumpness for a delicate heart shape that had the comeliness of newly-blooming womanhood.

"He should've been home by now—he should've been home six months ago, Gramps!"

The old man closed his eyes, folding his arms in front of him, preparing for his granddaughter's annual tirade.

"I just don't understand what was so damn important that he had to suddenly pick up and go—for two years!"

"Aoshi Shinomori is a complicated man, Misao; you should know that better than any of us here. When he gets it in his mind that he has to go, nothing can stop him—not even a young girl's naïve and cherished desires." He spoke the last part carefully.

Misao scoffed.

Of course he would have to bring _that _up.

"It's not like I ever smothered him, Okina-san. I took him tea for kami's sake! Day after day I went to the temple and I would sit with him for…hours! And then I would leave quietly, I never asked him once if and when he was coming home, not _Once!_ And if he had truly wanted to be left completely alone, he could have told me and I would have respected his wishes, he knows that! But up and leaving in the middle of the night without so much as a stupid letter that wasn't even addressed to me might I ad, is—I think—a little extreme if all he wanted was some space!"

Okina shook his head as he observed his granddaughter; eighteen, beautiful and stubborn as always. There was much about her personality that had changed and he honestly didn't expect it ever would. She would continue to grow up, mature—perhaps—but the essence of Misao, her heart and soul would always remain the same; no one could ever change her mind; the Meji era would have to be overthrown in a single night in order for that to be possible and that certainly wasn't happening any time soon.

"Give it time, my dear please—tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday, it's a special occasion! You want to enjoy this time and remember it for years to come. Believe me you get old too fast and before you have time to slow down and realize it, you've already turned seventy and lost most of your hair!" The old man chuckled as he stroked his long, white beard thoughtfully.

"You know what? You're right. I'm not gonna keep sitting here pining, waiting and wishing for that ass to come back!"

Okina cringed at Misao's crass language.

"If he wants to keep wondering the face of this earth, isolated and alone for the rest of his life then fine—what the hell do I care?! I have my whole life ahead of me and I'm gonna _live it!"_ With that, Misao turned on her heel and marched to her room, slamming the shoji behind her.

Okina heaved a heavy sigh. "Aoshi, for your sake, I hope you never come home; because that woman—she's a firecracker that's waiting to explode."


	2. Happy Birthday, Misao

Misao looked at herself in the mirror; she cringed.

_Why did I ever let gramps and Okira talk me into wearing this ridiculous thing?_

She was dressed in an oceanic blue-green geisha kimono that hugged her waist and hips snuggly while the V-neckline hung just off her shoulders and the lower portion flowed down and away from her upper thighs, cascading to the floor. It was tastefully revealing but somehow, Misao felt like she was completely naked! She had only just recently begun wearing kimonos within the last year but all of them had been very simplistic in style; certainly nowhere near this extravagant and she'd certainly never showed this much skin up top.

Her hair was in a low side ponytail, luscious black locks flowing over her shoulder and reaching a few inches past her waist. She'd put on a light dusting of blush on her cheeks and Okira had lined her eyes with a layer of coal, making her oceanic orbs pop.

"Misao!" Okira called to her from the other side of the shoji. "Please tell me you're ready? The guests are all here and we're waiting for you!"

Misao nodded, mustering up every last bit of ninja courage she had and proceeded out to the hallway—no matter what, she was going to enjoy this day, regardless of being dolled up in a ridiculous, tight-fitting kimono; this was her day after all and it was time to stop longing for the past and useless hopes and start living in the present and for the future.

# # # #

Aoshi Shinomori caught the sight of the Aoiya in the distance. It was late in the evening but the moonlight illuminated the deserted street before him and the outlines of the wholesome inn were bathed in its pale glow. He could scarcely believe that he was retracing his very steps from two years ago but the letter from Okina, beckoning him to return had reached a deep part somewhere inside him—a part of himself that he'd locked away for so long—and he felt at peace enough within himself to return to this city once again.

Reaching the gate, he felt the cold iron beneath his fingers as he gripped the latch and the familiar clink and click echoed in the night air as he turned it and entered the familiar outer courtyard. The windows were glowing in a yellow warmth as lively music and voices drifted out from inside. The door opened and Okina himself stood out on the engawa and spotting the tall imposing figure of Aoshi, the old man clapped his hands together in excitement and went to meet him.

"Aoshi!"

"Okina."

"Welcome home at last, my boy."

Aoshi's face was schooled in its typical cold seriousness but there was a difference in the young man's steel blue eyes that told Okina he had gained a small measure of peace within his soul; Okina trusted that the rest of Aoshi's heart and mind would be restored in time; he hoped tonight would be the first step towards that restoration.

"I see that you are very full this evening."

"Oh it's only a small get-together in honor of Misao's eighteenth birthday."

Aoshi's eyes widened marginally, his lips parting only slightly as it dawned on him just how long it had been. "I remember her birthday but—I hadn't realized that it had that long."

Okina nodded in understanding. "Time passes quickly when one is on a journey of soul-searching. And time seems to pass even more quickly when one is alone."

"Aa."

"Well please Aoshi, come in and rest; I'm sure you must be quite exhausted after your long journey."

"I won't stay long; I don't plan to stay very long, Okina and I'd prefer to sleep at the temple if you don't mind."

The old man gave him a quizzical side glance. "Well, if that is what you wish; although we have plenty of room here—"

"I would rather have more time to myself; you understand."

Okina nodded but inwardly he cringed. _I wonder why he took the trouble of returning if all he was going to do was hibernate at the temple again—oh Misao is not going to like this at all._

The two men entered the Aoiya just as the guests were all crowded around Misao singing wishes and blessings upon her.

Misao's eyes sparkled as she met the smiling faces of her family and friends crowded around her but a pair of steel blue eyes collided with her oceanic ones, the smile faded from her lips and her eyes glazed over with a mixture of shock and bewilderment.

Aoshi met the familiar oceanic blue-green eyes—but the face they belonged to seemed so foreign to him; no longer rounded and wide-eyed with wonder and innocence, this face held an appearance of blossoming womanhood portrayed in the pink flush of the cheeks, the delicate curve of the chin and the slanted almond-shaped eyes that no longer held the awed gaze of an innocent child. These eyes belonged to a strong, beautiful woman who was no longer the innocent girl he'd left behind and for the first time, Aoshi Shinomori was faced with an adversary he had no idea how to defeat.

Misao could scarcely believe she was staring at the same steel blue eyes that had plagued her dreams for the past two years. But her surprise was short-lived as the weight of everything crashed down on her and surprise turned to pure rage. Without a word, she marched over to where Okina and Aoshi stood and with every last ounce of strength, swung her fist at him as hard as she could.

It connected soundly with the corner of Aoshi's jaw, the force surprising him and the tall muscular ninja stumbled several feet backwards and lost his balance.

The guests gasped at the violent outburst and crowded towards the entrance where Aoshi had been consequently dispensed out onto the engawa where he was sprawled flat on his back.

"Makimachi Misao!" Okina shouted indignantly.

Misao—ignoring the older man's warning—marched purposefully through the crowd outside. She stopped just a few feet away from Aoshi who had now managed to sit up but was still stunned from Misao's brazen assault; he held his jaw in his gloved hand and gazed up dumbfounded at Misao. Her heaving chest, flaring nostrils and the fire flashing in her eyes clearly portrayed the burning fury that lurked just below the surface and for the first time in his entire twenty-eight years, Aoshi Shinomori feared for his life.

"Misao…"

The deep timber in his voice struck her; she had been without that voice for two years and even though she trembled on the inside, she was determined to remain strong. She refused to let him make her weak again. She'd spent ten years idolizing him, bending to his every whim, worshiping the ground he walked on.

_No more. This time, he's gonna get what he deserves and that's nothing._

"Don't. You. Dare. 'Misao' me. Two years. Two years you've been gone and then you show up here—" She looked at Okina but the older man only shook his head, disappointment evident on his face as he turned away; he had hoped Misao had moved past this but apparently she had much more growing and maturing to do.

"How dare you." Her voice faltered just the slightest and her oceanic eyes began to glisten.

"You have _no _right." And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked back through the aoiya main room and out the back entrance.

There was only one place she would go and both Aoshi and Okina shared a knowing look; the back courtyard not only housed the gardens but also the long one mile path that lead up the side of the mountain to the temple. Without a word, Aoshi stood to his feet, turned and followed after Misao, vanishing out the back entrance and into the night.

# # # #

The night was calm, airy and fresh; stars twinkled brightly above, Crickets chirped in harmonious sync and fireflies buzzed glowing amongst the trees, underbrush and grass as crisp, angry footfalls could be heard echoing loudly through the night mountain air.

Misao was already over half-way to the temple; her building anger fueled her steps into an impressively fast pace and before too long, her eyes caught sight of the first outlines of the modest temple, nestled away in the grove of cherry trees. The moon was full and bright and its crystal bright rays bathed the entrance to the temple in ethereal pale moonlight.

She reached the temple steps and momentarily leaned heavily against the tall pillars that supported the engawa. Heavy puffs of air could be seen in the chilly night air as Misao gasped heavily, trying to catch her breath. The one mile hike had left her exhausted physically but her previous anger had only ebbed away marginally.

"How dare he! How can he just show up here after all this time and act like—like—ugh! I will never understand him and honestly at this point, if I never saw or heard from him again, it would be too soon!" She punctuated this with a swift kick to the bottom step and the wood of the rise splintered from the brute force, splitting the soft silence of the evening. She huffed angrily and stomped up the steps and entered the temple, leaving a string of angry curses—and Misao never cursed—'how dare he's' and 'the nerve's' in her wake. She entered the large open meditation room where the modest shrine of Buda stood at the front and she stood before it, exhaling deeply.

"Why—why did you have to bring him back? I don't understand; I prayed and begged you…so many times when I was a girl, to bring him home. I begged you to open his eyes so he could see how much I felt; that he belonged here with me. But you never answered. And now, just when I've finally been able to let go of the stupid ass and move on with my life, you decide to bring him back?!" She clenched her fists and her petite, slender body began to tremble—tears burning at the corners of her eyes. "It isn't _fair!_ How could you do this to me?! What did I ever do to deserve this?!" She screamed as hot angry tears spilled over leaving wet trails down her pale cheeks and smearing the carefully painted coal eyeliner. Catching sight of an old clay vase sitting on the corner table nearest the shrine, Misao grasped it and hurled it angrily at the statue of Buda, an angry scream tearing through the air. The clay collided and shattered into a thousand shards but Misao's anger wasn't in the least bit sated. Slumping to the floor defeated, she buried her face in her hands and allowed the strangled sobs to overtake her.

Aoshi stood just outside the temple entrance, catching the loud crash of the vase as it shattered into pieces against the shrine of Buda. Then the sound of rustling fabric and strangled cries reached his ears and Aoshi shuddered as a stab of sharp guilt penetrated his heart.

He was the cause of this; he knew only too well of the power he possessed to tear Misao apart and reduce her to this—he had naively hoped to avoid it, but clearly that hope was a foolish one indeed. Unstrapping his Kodachis sheath, he left the weapons leaning against the porch railing, removed his shoes and ducked silently into the temple.

# # # #

Misao sensed a presence entering the temple but refused to even acknowledge it as she continued to sit alone, her tears continuing to fall.

"Misao." The deep rich timber was unmistakable.

Misao huffed a frustrated sigh as she furiously brushed a few tears away with the back of her arm, and stood shakily to her feet.

"Misao." The voice called out to her again, firm and solid. She could sense a lecture coming and she laughed bitterly, turning around to face him.

"Oh that's just perfect; of course you're here right now!" She shouted sarcasm thickly lacing her agitated tone.

Aoshi remained silent as he observed her; his face schooled into a calm, cold mask that only proved to infuriate Misao even further. "You know I never would have guessed you'd come back—I spent a lot of time hoping you would but I wasn't stupid enough to actually expect it or believe it. And after a time, I actually got to the point where I didn't _want_ you to come back. And I thought 'finally, I'm free I can go one with my life without living every painful waking moment wishing, hoping and praying that Aoshi will magically reappear! And then—then after all that time; when I just finally got to the point where I can _breathe _again without that terrible ache in my chest—here you are and I just—I can't take this anymore!"

Aoshi's expression remained unchanged but inside he was warring with his heart and his mind. So many emotions plagued him all at once; surprise, regret, elation, guilt, passion—they all muddled together and he struggled to distinguish one from the next. He wasn't yet used to these strong feelings that sharpened his soul like a knife cutting through pliable clay. He felt his breath quicken at the sight of Misao standing before him in the most breath-taking display of beauty he'd ever beheld in her, yet his heart constricted sharply at the sight of the tears streaking her alabaster cheeks and his throat tightened at the sound of utter despair and anger in her voice that had once been always so sweet like a spring breeze caressing his face.

But he betrayed none of this in his outward manner; he had to remain steady and strong like a mighty rock, he wasn't ready yet to divulge how he felt; hell, he couldn't even fully reconcile what he felt to himself! There was no way that he could possibly begin to explain to Misao—

"—you could have just stayed away. Heaven knows with every single time that you've left—which by the way there aren't enough fingers on my hands or toes on my feet to count how many times you've done just that—left without a word—no—more like abandoned us! It seems like you prefer that because otherwise, you wouldn't feel the need to do so every goddamn minute. So honestly Aoshi, tell me this just explain to me—if you at all possibly can manage before deciding to up and leave again—explain to me just why on earth you would decide to just show up out of the bloody nowhere, now? Why not just stay away! You prefer loneliness to being around family and God forbid, people who actually _love and care_ about you, so why not just stay away do yourself and the rest of us a favor and stop leaving a trail of damage, no explanations and heart break in your path and just _leave!"_

In a split second, Aoshi was across the room and sweeping the seething young woman up in a crushing embrace. Misao's blue-green eyes widened in complete surprise and a gasp escaped her lips as she felt herself being lifted off the floor and pressed soundly against a broad and solid muscled chest. She blinked twice before her mind caught up and registered what was happening; surprise turned to furious desperation. With all her strength she fought against Aoshi's arms as they endeavored to pull her even closer; she kicked wildly and her tiny fists pummeled his chest furiously as an envoy of fresh tears ensued. "No! I don't care what you say or what you do—I'm not going to forgive you—I'll never forgive you!—you're hateful, I can't stand the sight of you—let me go, Shinomori, let me go!—_Aoshi-samaaaaaa!_"

For a solid ten minutes, Misao continued on in the same manner; ferociously fighting against the man she had loved all her life, with every ounce of strength in her.

And Aoshi never once attempted to restrain her onslaught—he only held her closer as fit after fit of tears poured down her cheeks, soaking the sleeve of his long beige trench coat. After a few more moments, Misao—exhausted from her fight—finally sagged her full weight against Aoshi, her eyes were red and puffy from crying and every muscle in her body ached. Before long, Misao's soft, steady breathing could be heard as she fell into a fitful sleep in Aoshi's arms.

"—Misao—"her name fell in a soft whisper from his lips as he reached tentative fingers to brush the unruly bangs back from her forehead. She looked so fragile and innocent yet life had clearly left its mark on her countenance, a mark that was far too harsh for someone so young and full of life like Misao. Sliding an arm underneath her legs, Aoshi scooped her effortlessly into his arms, bridal style and carried her back down the mountain path that led to the Aoiya.


	3. Aoshi's Weakness

Misao opened her eyes just as the sun crept over the crest of the mountains, breaking the sky in early dawn.

The muscles in her legs and lower back ached as she rolled over onto her back, stretching her arms high above her head.

"…_Aoshi…"_

The memories of the previous evening and her confrontation with Aoshi, flooded her thoughts; Misao groaned and pulled the blanket over her head, burying her face in her pillow. _I wonder if Aoshi is still here or…if he's already left. _

She rolled onto her side and absently twisted the lose end of her braid around her finger, her eyes staring off deep in thought; despite Aoshi's past record of sudden disappearances, something inside her told her that this time would be different.

Misao groaned again. _And just when I actually want him to leave, he'll end up sticking around; just my luck_.

Just then, she was interrupted by a soft knock outside her door. "Misao?"

It was Omasu. "Breakfast will be ready in an hour…the bath house is free if you'd like to wash up before then."

Misao smiled warmly; ever since she was a child, she loved hot steaming early morning baths and no one knew that better than Omasu.

"Alright Omasu-san."

Fifteen minutes later, Misao was immersed up to her shoulders in a relaxing bath, reveling in the soothing warmth of the steaming water scented with twilight wood bath salts. She hated to leave her soothing languid refuge but breakfast would be soon so reluctantly she carefully stood to her feet, water dripping down her neck and shoulders as she stepped out of the bath.

Drying quickly, she donned a simple soft baby blue house Yukata and house sandals. Leaving the bath house which was located in the back of the aoiya, she slid open the back door and strode quietly back to her room.

Half way there, she came to the room that used to be Aoshi's back when he was still living with the oniwabansuu. She was just about to pass by when suddenly, the shoji slid open and there stood Aoshi in all of his pale flowing trench coat glory.

Misao froze in her tracks.

Aoshi stood still, his statuesque form ramrod straight as his steel blue eyes clashed with hers.

She spared him only a momentary glimpse of her oceanic eyes before silently walking past him without a single word.

Aoshi was caught off guard when he discovered Misao just a few feet outside his bedroom door that morning. He hadn't expected to see her so early in the morning and certainly not in her present state of—_light _clothing; he was accustomed to seeing her either in a ninja uniform or a very modest casual kimono but never had he seen her just out of bed with nothing more than a thin Yukata and wet hair. His steel blue eyes clashed with hers, his stoic expression perfectly in place but inside, Aoshi was shaking.

Misao brushed past him silently and he caught the strong scent of twilight wood drifting off her skin and the scent of Jasmine in her hair. He nearly staggered when her shoulder brushed against his arm, causing the sleeve of her Yukata to catch and pull just off her shoulder. The milky white skin revealed there nearly had Aoshi dropping to his knees but the broad-shouldered ninja clenched his jaw tightly and stood unmoving as the young woman moved past him.

Misao stopped just a few feet from him and turned a furtive glance at him over her shoulder. She expected him to be long gone but was surprised to find him rooted to the spot, steel blue eyes locked onto her.

Aoshi held his breath as Misao turned and gave him one last look. He couldn't believe how much she had changed—she was even taller now; where before the top of her head had reached only to his chest, she now stood a half foot taller, her crown nearly reaching his shoulder. She was still slender but womanly curves had replaced the skinny waist, hips and legs leaving an alluring hour glass figure in their place—a figure that Aoshi couldn't help but devour with his eyes in this moment.

"I didn't think you'd still be here."

She spoke and her words left him breathless somehow—what had come over him?

"I thought that…after last night you'd…well that you'd rather leave then—"

Her words dropped off but he wasn't satisfied; he could tell in the hesitant look of her eyes as they flickered from his face to the floor, that she had something more on her mind. "Misao I…"

She shook her head. "There's no need to explain—really I—I don't expect anything from you, Aoshi-sama." The corners of her mouth curved up in a sad smile as she came to stand directly in front of him. "You—you carry far too much on yourself, you know." Her small hand reached out hesitantly and came to rest in the center of his chest—slender fingers splayed across the perfectly chiseled muscles that rippled beneath the thin black fabric of his uniform. "I've—I've never understood why you've always blamed yourself for their deaths; it wasn't your fault. You know as well as I do that if the tables had been reversed, you would have done the same for them. You carry the guilt unnecessarily and I will never be able to understand that but—I respect it. Because I know that's who you are and as much as I may have wanted things to be different I see now that they will _never _be different; you will never change, Aoshi-sama and—it has been foolish of me to think you would and selfish of me to hope that you would change—for me. I understand that now. So no, I don't need an explanation—"Her eyes which had been fixed to the spot where her fingers splayed across his chest, now raised to meet his steel blue gaze. "I won't expect anything from you any longer; you have my word."

And that was his undoing.

The moment her small hand pressed against his chest, his cold expression faltered.

His perfect self-control, shattered.

Self-discipline to keep mind, body and spirit under complete restraint, vanished.

His Calculating resolve to keep Misao at arm's length and protect her from himself, dissolved at the moment of her touch.

Reason and logic were wiped away as though they had never existed and every rule and principle he'd once held himself to was broken.

In other words, everything that was once Aoshi Shinomori, came crumbling down in one jolting, pivotal moment.

Time stood still.

Misao's hand slipped from his chest as she turned away. Her swished behind her and brushed against the backs of his fingers.

He reached out a trembling hand and grasped the first bit of her he could reach; the collar of her yukata.

Misao felt a strong pull in the fabric and turned startled eyes just as Aoshi's trembling fingers wrapped around the thin baby blue fabric.

Ocean green clashed with Ice blue.

Aoshi yanked.

Misao gasped.

Soft alabaster skin and delicate curves crashed against broad chest and solid steel muscle as Aoshi Shinomori pulled Misao's lithe form flush against his own, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. He pinner her against him, his entire body shook and his eyes were wide and alive with a kind of fire that Misao had never before seen in the eyes of any man, let alone Aoshi's.

His fingers still gripped the collar of her yakata as his ice blue eyes bored into hers. "You—will not—walk away from me—Misao."

This sudden impassioned command suddenly made Misao bristle and her oceanic blue-green eyes hardened against his. "I—will not—? _you _are the one who has walked away from _me _countless times without a goodbye or even a look back so don't you _dare _tell _me _that I won't walk away! I'll do whatever I please, I'm eighteen and I can and _will _make my own decisions for my life so you can just get the hell—! "

Slender fingers gripped thin blue fabric.

More alabaster skin—shoulder and collar bone—were laid bare.

A muscled arm curved tightly around a slender waist as Aoshi crushed Misao against him, dipped his head and pressed his lips hard against hers in a flaming searing kiss.

Her throat tightened.

Breath froze in her lungs.

His heart hammered against his chest.

He's certain she could feel it.

His tongue pressed the seam of her lips, begging entrance.

Air flooded her mouth.

She inhaled sharply.

His tongue licked along the inside edge of her lips

Her chest heaved up and down.

She's certain he could feel it.

His fingertips dug into her hips as he pressed her hard against him.

She was certain he bruised her.

She didn't care.

He could feel her against him. Every inch of her.

Her soft supple skin tingled beneath his hungry fingertips as he pressed them against her waist. Her breath was the sweetest—most forbidden—nectar he ever dared to taste.

Then unexpectedly, Misao felt Aoshi's iron grip lesson ever so slightly and she was suddenly ripped from a daze of dizzying heat and passion.

She pushed against him.

With all her strength, she threw the force and weight of her body backwards and wrested herself from his arms.

Aoshi gasped at Misao's audacious strength, surprised that she'd managed to catch him off-handedly.

Suddenly, he felt robbed of her warmth at the instant she pushed out of his grasp, stumbling backwards away from him.

"Y—you!" She gasped; breathless, dismayed and enthralled all at once, Misao pressed trembling fingers to her still-heated tingling lips. She couldn't articulate a single thought or speak a word as her befuddled mind tried to grapple with what had just happened.

It couldn't be.

Aoshi Shinomori…had just kissed her.

_Her!_

_I—I don't—b-believe it! But what—w-what's gotten into him?! He's—no this isn't happening. This can't be happening!_

Astonishment turned to disbelief.

Disbelief to staggering realization—and suddenly staggering realization turned to hurt, indignation and humiliation.

Aoshi stood breathless, his body still shaking and his mind in complete and utter bewilderment. One moment, she chastises him for leaving her and then the next when he's throwing himself into her in a moment of reckless abandon, _she _is the one who pulls a way, in essence rejecting him! He felt a strange feeling bloom deep in his heart at that moment; was it anger? Indignation? Determination? Whatever it was, the feeling grew and burned through his veins, giving Aoshi an inner strength and boldness he'd never felt before in all his twenty-eight years of life.

For the first time in years, the ghost of a smile appeared in the handsome ninja's eyes and he vowed that _this _was a fight he would _never again _walk away from.

Besides, Aoshi Shinomori always loved a good challenge.

"Misao." He spoke her name in a low, firm timber.

"I don't know what you are—trying to do, Aoshi but it is cruel! If you think you can rip my heart into a million pieces and then turn around and mock me—you're sadly mistaken." Her voice took on an icy, dangerous edge to it; one that Aoshi was not familiar with and frankly, he didn't like the look of ire blossoming in those beautiful oceanic orbs.

"There is much you may not know or understand about me, Misao but one thing you of all people should know, I have _never _mocked anyone's pain; I know too well of the pain this hard life can bring and I—it pains me to see that look in your eyes, Misao; that look of harshness was all that I always wanted to protect you from." He took a step towards her.

"Don't. you're avoiding the issue, Aoshi, don't do this! I don't—aghrr! I don't understand you at all!"

"Listen to me Misao." His voice was still firm but there was an edge of gentle pleading in it that somehow shook Misao to her core and her lithe body began to tremble.

"Why?" The tears in her voice were becoming evident in her eyes as she uttered the question that sounded more like the weakened whimper of a frightened wounded dog.

"After everything you've—p-put me through—why would you rob me of the last shred of pride I have left and kiss me?" a few lone tears escaped beneath the long lashes, leaving wet trails that glistened against her porcelain cheeks.

"Misao I—please don't cry, Misao. You must—"Aoshi was struggling with the overwhelming surge of emotions bubbling just below the surface.

Misao could see the inner struggle reflected in his eyes though he maintained his poise outwardly.

"You have—you've changed, Misao. I can't even begin to understand or comprehend the—woman you've become. It amazes me. So long I saw you as just a child; innocent, bright always happy and vibrant; it didn't matter how dark the world around you was, you always shone so bright just like the sun. And now, I come back to find you. This. You're standing before me all grown up and I—I just can't—I don't know how to deal with this, Misao. Himura told me once that you were no longer a child. I didn't understand him fully then.

But I do now."

"Aoshi…sama." Her quiet voice reached his ears and he felt himself weaken even further.

_She has—completely unhinged me! _He thought to himself, a paralyzing reality that struck him more painfully than the blows of any vicious foe he had ever faced. "You—you have—_completely bewitched _me, Misao!" He spoke breathlessly and passionately, sending a heated shudder down her spine; her voice caught in her throat, her pink lips parted.

"I—I can't—no." she willed herself to remain composed and strong. She wouldn't lose her pride, whatever pride she had left. "I can't hear this anymore, Aoshi-sama. I can't. You may be ten years my junior and that gives you the right to honor and respect. But I also have the right to protect _my _honor and I also deserve respect. You can't just come in here and take advantage of my vulnerability! And you _know_ my weaknesses which makes this even more unfair; _you _are my weakness—"

Aoshi gasped at her admission. Deep down, he'd always known he had this power over her but there was always a part of him that refused to accept it and the denial had been going on for so many years, he'd actually almost made himself believe that it wasn't possible. Now, hearing the words from her very own lips, only confirmed this and the weight of it was staggering.

"—only when you choose to and I respect that but that doesn't mean that I can just stand here and listen to you when you're being so—s-so—" her cheeks flushed a deep red as the memory of Aoshi's searing kiss caused every inch of her skin to heat up.

"Misao, please…"

She shook her head, tears still staining her cheeks; but she was resolved. "No, Aoshi."

With that, she turned and walked past him without another word. When Aoshi turned around, she was gone leaving him speechless, disappointed but above all, aching and wanting for more.


	4. Misao's Weakness, Part I

Two weeks went by and she was still avoiding him.

Ever since their heated and unexpected encounter in the hall outside his room, she'd been scarcely near him for more than a stretch of five minutes at a time.

Her usual lively chatter and vibrancy would mellow considerably whenever he walked into the room and she always seemed to make it a point to keep her eyes diverted from him to either the floor or some obscure spot on the wall furthest from him.

Or she'd simply sit quietly and stare at her hands that were now always buried in her lap.

She was no longer animated.

Lively.

Bubbly.

It's like the lively, vibrant person that was once Misao had now been replaced with a demure, quiet and mysterious woman that kept everything bottled up inside.

It was painful.

Infuriating.

He couldn't stand it.

His patience was wearing thin—very quickly.

He was losing control.

Every time she would walk into the room, his azure eyes would dart towards her and fixate on her—like they were begging her to look at him, give him some indication that she still acknowledged him.

But every time his eyes found her and stared—dared or even _threatened _her with a glare, her gaze never met his. Not even once.

Her green eyes steered safely—and purposely—_away _from him. And she never ventured near him.

Aoshi hated to admit it; it wounded his pride and gave him a sense of disgust and revulsion at his own weakness…

But he was going _mad. _

Mad with impatience.

Mad with curiosity.

Mad with rejection.

Mad with _longing. _

Dear God in all the heavens, he was losing his sanity, his self-control; all his carefully built walls of self-preservation and dignity were crumbling down; they had been since that morning she'd touched him.

It had been such a small, simple touch too; barely even there—just the light pressure of her small hand as it pressed against the center of his chest.

But that was all it had taken. And he was now a man weak and in dire _need. _To others, he may have appeared strong and immovable outwardly.

But inwardly, he was on his knees at the mercy of the woman he'd fought so hard to keep at arm's length and now she was the only one who could rid him of his pain and suffering—she consumed him now. Heart, mind and soul and now his body was crying out for same all-consuming redemption.

But alas, she had kept away from him. Completely away and it wouldn't be long before—if she continued to avoid him—Aoshi would completely lose control and he knew at that moment, his weakness would be too great; he'd cave and fall prostrate at Misao's feet; she would be free to do whatever she wished with him.

Oh this couldn't be happening! If he wasn't careful; one slip up, one misstep and he'd be—

His maddening mental tirade was brought to a crashing halt when he heard footsteps climbing the stairs to the temple engawa.

At first, his heart soared—thinking of course that it was Misao coming with his usual afternoon tea. But then his hopes were dashed to pieces when he turned and found none other than Okon shuffling softly towards him with a tray of tea in her hands.

His azure eyes hardened. His shoulders squared.

"Okon. What is this?" his cold, calculating voice uttered curtly.

Okon looked up to find Aoshi's ice blue eyes piercing through her. His frame was ridged; though he knelt before the shrine in his usual meditative pose, his demeanor spoke of anything _but _calm serenity.

She gulped. "Why this is your tea, Aoshi-sama…I know you usually have it around this time and I thought—"

"Where. Is. Misao. She is always the one who brings the tea. I trust she hasn't gotten herself into any trouble."

Okon gulped again. She was no fool; she had noticed the growing tension between Aoshi and Misao and her and Omasu had come to the conclusion that something monumental had transpired between the two and it must have been earth-shaking because now, there was barely a breath uttered between the two for two weeks straight. "I'm sorry, Aoshi-sama…but you see…Misao has—well she insisted she had training today—and well I told her that it wouldn't take her very long to bring it but—b-but she…she made it evident that she had no—intention of doing so."

That was the final straw.

Aoshi snapped.

Without another word, he stood to his feet turned away from Okon and marched out of the temple and down the pathway to the Aoiya.

Whatever had Misao avoiding him so ardently was of no further merit and Aoshi Shinomori was going to put a stop to it…_now. _


	5. Misao's Weakness, Part II

"Hah!"

Misao cast her Kunai at the target with deathly precision, striking the stuffed dummy right between the eyes.

She heaved a sigh; her chest rising and falling with the effort. She'd been out in the training yard since dawn this morning, perfecting her ninja skills including her kunai thrusts, stealth technique and even some extensive hand-to-hand strength training.

A thick film of perspiration formed on her forehead; sweat droplets dripped down her neck and back as she pushed herself harder.

It had been two weeks and keeping away from Aoshi had proven more difficult than she could have ever imagined.

A part of her regretted the decision she'd made to avoid him; she missed being hear him, she missed his presence even though he was always so quiet and rarely spoke a word to her.

But another part of her—the bigger part—was just too overwhelmed, scared and confused to be near him right now; she couldn't get their chance meeting or that delicious, damnable kiss out of her mind! Every minute of the day, she had to make the conscious effort _not _to think about Aoshi, their kiss or anything remotely related to it.

It was nearly impossible though.

Everywhere she went, something would remind her of him.

Or of _it. _

She hadn't gone near the temple in two whole weeks, unable to face him—just the smell of green tea wafting on the air reminded her of how much he loved tea and then before she knew it, her thoughts were once again consumed with him and she'd scold herself harshly for letting her mind get carried away…_again. _

Misao huffed, irritated; she was doing it again; allowing her thoughts to carelessly drift to Aoshi without even realizing it. She savagely thrust another kunai at the target, standing eight yards beyond her.

The Kunai missed.

Horribly.

Her aim was at least two feet off to the left.

Her eyes widened in horror.

She'd _never _missed her target since she was first learning the skill of throwing kunai from Hannya when she was ten.

She groaned loudly, grimacing in frustration.

This was _bad. _

How was she supposed to perfect her skills further when no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, her head filled with thoughts of that damned—

"Misao!"

She gulped.

Then froze.

She knew that voice.

The coldness and deep firm commanding was unmistakable.

Misao took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. _…Damn it._ And bracing herself, she turned around to face _him. _

Aoshi observed her closely, noticing the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she inhaled and exhaled, and then the way her back straightened and her shoulders squared as she turned to face him.

She was preparing herself.

Her serious blue-green eyes pierced into his.

Aoshi sighed inwardly. _Well this is will be interesting, no doubt…_

"Aoshi-sama." Misao greeted him formally, her voice cool and slightly challenging.

"Misao. Why have you been away from the Aoiya all afternoon? Okon and Omasu have been very busy with housework and customers; I'm certain they could have used your help."

Misao scoffed inwardly; of course he'd use neglect of her duties as a way to get to her; so typical of him. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him.

He was the Okashira after all and to openly disrespect him would mean _huge _trouble for her.

"I informed both Okon and Omasu that I needed to catch up on my training; they said it was fine as long as I was back in time for the evening rush." She bent over, picking up another kunai, preparing to thrust it at the target yet again.

"Considering your last kunai thrust was at least two feet off its target, it would appear that your training session hasn't benefitted you very much."

Misao froze, her back turned towards Aoshi. She gritted her teeth, anger slowly building up inside her. First, he insinuates that she's slacking off her duties, and then he has the nerve to _spy _on her in the middle of her training session and insult her efforts!

"You are out of focus—distracted. How many times have you been told that that is the difference between whether you live or die?"

Misao sighed heavily. "Many times, Aoshi-sama; I already know this."

"Do you? Because it seems to me, you've forgotten, allowing yourself to make careless and rash decisions which will cost you dearly out on the battle field." Aoshi approached her then, unfastening his Kodachi from around his waist and laying it on the ground next to Misao's forgotten kunai. He then took a defensive stance, holding up his fists and spreading his feet apart, grounding them. "Now. When your opponent attacks you, you must be prepared to defend yourself—in the blink of an eye; that is all it takes for your opponent to deliver a death blow, assuming he is a skilled fighter."

"I know, Aoshi-sama, you and Hannya taught me this over and over—"

"Then show me! Or are you just going to stand there like a frightened kitten allowing itself to be drowned."

Misao squared her shoulders and raised her fists; her eyes grew deathly serious as she prepared to attack Aoshi head on. She took two precise steps towards him, thrusting out her left and right fists to attack.

But Aoshi—anticipating her attack—blocked both fists with his left arm and then brought his right fist down, connecting with Misao's middle which was exposed. He pulled his right hook just enough so as not to fracture any of her ribs but he allowed just enough force to painfully bruise her.

Misao gasped and staggered backwards, clutching her side; it ached and burned from the force of Aoshi's counterattack but she could tell he'd checked his right hook significantly or else every breath she took would have been excruciatingly painful on account of a broken rib.

"Never leave yourself open at any moment, or your enemy will use it to his advantage!"

Misao took off again, heading straight for Aoshi at lightning speed. At the last moment, she pushed off the ground, leaping into the air above him, poised for an above attack.

But Aoshi once again dodged her assault. Grabbing her outstretched leg by the ankle, he brought her down, thrusting her hard onto her back and pinning her with his knee and a small dagger she hadn't seen before on his person, held dangerously to her throat. "Never. Ever attack your opponent from above, unless you have the element of surprise and are aware of _any _and _all _weapons he possesses. And that is twice now that you have allowed me to anticipate your moves; a careless mistake Misao; you should know better—"

Suddenly, Misao used the force of her body and thrust Aoshi off of her, catching him momentarily off guard. He flew back but crouching down, used the force of his back foot to slow his momentum and skidded to a halt. Misao scrambled to her feet as Aoshi straightened up, his aura calm and controlled, giving no indication that she had startled him.

"Perhaps you are as yet, too unfocused."

This made Misao angry and she charged him, gritting out angrily. "You don't know what—I'm capable of!"

"Then _show _me, Misao! Or are you going to—continue—to waste my time!?" He challenged her as he fluidly dodged every one of her punches, elbow thrusts and high kicks.

Misao growled, her anger bubbling over as she attacked Aoshi with all of her might.

"Now you are fighting out of anger; control, Misao! Never fight your enemy in anger."

"Shut—up Shinomori!" She was raging now.

Aoshi shook his head inwardly. _These isn't good; if she continues to fight out of anger, she will exhaust herself and yet again, leave herself vulnerable to another attack; I thought I'd taught her better than this!_

"Misao—your enemy will use your anger against you; he will find a vulnerability; you must control your anger, Misao—control your emotions!"

"Is _that _what _you _were showing me two weeks ago?! _Control _of your _emotions?!_"

Aoshi's concentration snapped and for a split second, his evasive movements slowed and his eyed widened, startled at her brazen mention of that morning two weeks ago.

Seeing her opening, Misao lunged at him full force, thrusting upwards with her knee to his chest.

Aoshi barely saw her attack, evading it at the last second. He twisted his body to the right, coming up behind her in a blinding flash of speed that even Misao couldn't see with the naked eye.

She then felt Aoshi's strong vice grip as he grasped her arms, forcing them behind her back and imprisoning both her wrists in his right hand. He then whirled her around to face him—her arms securely locked behind her in his iron grasp.

Aoshi pinned her with his deadly azure gaze, backing her into the concrete wall that surrounded the training yard.

Her eyes were wide and bright with surprise and a hint of terror.

Her full pink lips parted with each ragged gasp of breath she exhaled and her chest heaved up and down.

He could feel the blood pulsing hard and fast through the veins in her wrists. He felt her aura trembling with the overpowering energy she had exerted; the adrenaline was clearly still pumping as her limbs trembled.

Aoshi's left hand began to tremble at his side and he pressed it forcefully to the wall beside her head, attempting to calm his nerves.

Having her so close to him—barely inches away; did something terrifyingly delicious to his senses and his body vibrated as it awakened with longing and want.

Misao was exhausted, angry and flustered. But there wasn't much she could do; Aoshi had her hands pinned, her body pressed against the wall and entirely blocked in, his tall, lean muscled form towering over her.

She wanted to shout.

Fight.

Scratch.

Kick.

Anything.

But it was pointless. It would only make Aoshi all the more determined and that was the last thing she needed right now.

Suddenly, Aoshi's lips parted and she felt the warmth of his breath ghosting over her cheek. "I—didn't think you—wanted to discuss it."

His voice was deep, edgy and raw with an undefinable emotion.

Misao gulped, feeling senses succumbing to the earnest look in his ice blue eyes. She wouldn't cave. She wouldn't give in.

Not now. "You were the one yelling at me about 'control over one's emotions'—and I think that's—extremely unfair when you displayed anything _but—_"

Aoshi pressed closer to her; the edge of his trench coat brushed against her thighs.

Misao did her best to suppress a shiver—she failed.

And Aoshi noticed. "What is it—_exactly _that you are angry at me for, Misao? Something tells me—it has nothing to do with me challenging your fighting skills."

Misao couldn't think of a response that wasn't self-incriminating so she stayed quiet and only stared at him.

"Misao…"

She resisted the shivers pushing to the surface at the base of her spine.

"You angry at me—but you won't tell me why."

"Like you said before—I don't want to talk about it—Aoshi-sama."

"I am your Okashira, Misao and I want an answer_—_an_ honest one._"

Misao bit her lower lip and fidgeted; her feet itching to carry her as far away from Aoshi Shinomori as she could get. But Aoshi still had her wrists locked in his grasp and her body blocked in and from the looks of things, he wasn't about to let her leave any time soon—at least not until she gave him a straight answer.

"I want. An answer. Misao..._now._"

She looked up at him; she could feel her resolve faltering as his ice blue gaze heated up, piercing her oceanic orbs.

She bit her lower lip again—and Aoshi's self-control crumbled.

He crashed his lips hard against hers—bruising her immediately.

Misao held her breath.

Then his tongue plundered her mouth, and she gasped, shivers wracking her body.

Aoshi felt her shudders vibrating against his lips and it only spurred his passion; he pressed his solid body against her lithe frame, aching to feel every shiver rippling through her body.

The feverish urgency in his kiss made Misao dizzy and the heat of his body pressing against her was overwhelming.

Every curve of Misao's body melded perfectly with his own; as if every inch of her had been crafted just for him. Another shudder rippled through her tiny form—reverberating through his own body and Aoshi could scarcely repress the strangled moans that clawed up his throat.

He had Misao completely pinned against him—and yet he couldn't seem to get close enough.

How could he be losing all control of his mind and body—so quickly and completely?! He could barely discern the numberless thoughts and jumbled emotions that flowed around inside him like a torrent.

All he could think of was Misao.

In this moment, she was completely and utterly consuming him.

Her lips.

Her breath.

Every shiver rifting through her body, he felt.

Every trembling breath she drew in the briefest seconds between his fervent kisses.

Every sound and movement she made, he memorized.

And as the tiniest of moans escaped her lips, Aoshi inhaled sharply and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her away from the wall and pressing her against him.

Misao trembled and shivered all over.

Her breathing was erratic, labored and she could feel herself approaching hyperventilation. _…Need….air! _

Her mind was screaming at her through the heated, dizzying haze and finally, she managed to break out of Aoshi's passionate spell.

Mustering every scrap of will she had, she pulled away and pressed her forehead against Aoshi's chest. His gi smelled like the mountain forests and green tea—just like Aoshi. Her breathing slowly began to steady; she was thankful Aoshi seemed to understand her need to take a breath—he could probably use a moment himself.

But he didn't release his hold on her and Misao knew it was going to take more effort and persuasion on her part for him to let her go. "A—Aoshi-s-sama—"

"…Misao don't—'Sama' is not necessary…"

"Aoshi-sama…I—please I—n-need—air." She could've sworn she hear the tiniest hint of a snicker from Aoshi but then again things were still heated, charged and hazy; she could imagine pretty much anything at this point and probably convince herself that it was real.

"I—what are we _doing_?"

"What…?"

Misao pushed back just enough to lift her head and look into his eyes. "I don't understand any of this; what are _you doing?!_"

For a moment, Aoshi didn't answer, still catching his breath as he felt the last bits of adrenaline ebbing away. His eyes searched every line of Misao's face.

She was so breathtaking. He couldn't fathom how he had missed it.

All these years, she'd been growing up right before his eyes.

And he'd missed it all; the careless fool that he was—so consumed and obsessed with revenge and he'd let slip away the one thing that had always been the most important and precious in his miserable, empty existence—_her. _

He didn't even realize when his heart had been so suddenly entranced and bewitched by her. It's like it happened over night and his head was still scrambling to catch up with it.

"Aoshi…Aoshi-sama, are you listening?"

He shook his head, his deep steel blue eyes drifting back to the present as they found Misao's serious, troubled expression.

She suddenly looked years older than him—and it unsettled him.

"I—I can't deal with this! Any of this but you keep—I woke up this morning and I came here—for the specific reason to—work and exhaust my stupid thoughts from being consumed with you and then you just show up here—and freakin' confuse me all over again! I don't get what you expect from me? You left—and then you come back and spend all day—meditating in that stupid temple; you ignore me and everyone else only speaking a word when you had to. Then you leave _again _and when I've finally decided to just give up on your stubborn ass and give you what you want, you blow in here like a whirlwind and suddenly—you—you're _h_ere—l-_like this _and—I just—"

"Misao…please…I just—I need—" He released her arms but still held her around the waist, caressing her cheek tenderly, his steel blue eyes shown with so much emotion as they wondered endlessly through her oceanic orbs.

But she couldn't stand it any longer, it was all just too much.

Too soon.

All at once and with no explanation, rhyme or reason.

"N-no I can't—I can't _do _this right now, Aoshi—please just don't."

He gasped; it was the first time in all her life, she'd said his name without 'sama' at the end and his insides ached with longing to hear her utter it just once more.

She turned and as he made no effort to stop her, she slowly removed herself from his embrace and walked away.

He called after her, his voice steady and commanding. "You cannot avoid me forever, Misao; you might walk away from me tonight—but I promise you, I will not allow you to walk away from me again…this is just the beginning."

She took one final look at him over her shoulder; his steady, heated steel blue eyes burned into hers and her heart constricted as she knew there would be no escaping the man she'd loved for nearly all of her life.

She could fight against it with all of her strength and will but she would only be denying the inevitable truth.

Aoshi was her weakness—and she would lose.

After all, this was Aoshi Shinomori—and he _never ever _lost a fight.


End file.
